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Almost Doesn't Count by amk16
Number of reviews: 131
Print:  Chapter or Story
The door was pushed open roughly, a feat in itself considering the size of it. Justin, who’d been even more surprised than me, was now wedged into the corner, between the splintery wood and the cold, cement wall, holding his forehead in pain.
“I can’t do this! I refuse to work in this environment any longer!”
Britney continued to rant long enough for J and I to communicate. Though I wasn’t too great at reading his form of sign language, I gathered that he was rather uncomfortable in his latest position and was ready to kill someone. I also realized how adorable he looked when he was embarrassed, but that’s beside the point.
Anyway, Britney plopped in my chair and looked at me expectantly.
“Brit, you need to calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
Why I said this? I don’t know. What I do know, is that this prompted her to recount her entire session with ‘Dr. Crackpot’- yes, that’s a direct quote- as well as everything wrong in her world.
It’s true what they say; if you just nod and smile with the occasional ‘of course’ or ‘mhmm’, the conversation takes care of itself. Besides, it was nothing new; she threatened to quit after every meeting.
Every once and a while I would shift my attention to Justin and signal him to leave, all the while keeping up my rotation of nods and mumbles.
“Are you even listening?”
“Oh, yeah! I just have- um- my, uh, neck has been bothering me.” That wasn’t far from the truth considering the two huge pains that wouldn’t seem to go away.
You’ll notice that I get better at thinking on my feet as I continuously get myself in these predicaments. This business had taught me to multi-task. At the moment, however, my only thought was to get one of them out a.s.a.p. It was like one of those annoying problems they give you in High School algebra. If the two trains are barreling towards each other at the same speed, how long do you have before their explosive cargo implode on impact? So you really do use math in real life. I wish I’d actually paid attention in that class.
I pulled Brit from her seat and lead her towards the exit. “Hun,” I patted her back sympathetically. “Quitting is not the way to handle this. Now, can we talk about this later?”
I finally pushed her out and permitted the oxygen I’d been holding in to escape.
“Is she serious,” Justin whispered, afraid the object of our conversation might hear him. He went to push himself away from the wall, thus stepping from behind the door; the large, metal door.
It was at this time that Britney slammed the door back open. Justin’s foot was now lodged between the door and its frame, subsequently emitting a muffled groan of pain.
“Becca, I’m not joking,” she said forcefully. She turned abruptly, allowing me to see just how exasperated she was. “I can’t take this pressure anymore. I’ve been doing this for the past 6 years. I need a break. What was that?”
Not being one to miss a beat, I too whimpered. “I stubbed my finger closing the door. You know me, I get clumsy sometimes.
She eyed me suspiciously, but said nothing. After a second or so, she sighed pitifully. “I really think I’m going crazy. I could have sworn I heard Juju’s voice.” She continued to hold the doorknob, twisting it absent mindedly. “I even thought I smelled his cologne when I walked in.”
I put on a sympathetic face. “I know that with…everything that’s going on, life’s not peachy. Maybe you should take some time off.”
“You don’t understand,” She shook her head and sighed. “I’m just going to give it up. Everybody has something to say and none of it’s good, and now the one person that I used to lean on isn’t here. I just don’t…”
“Brit, are you listening to yourself? You can’t stop performing just because of me.”
Ugh. There was no way that I was going to convince that as a ventriloquist, my voice drops a few octaves.
Why does Justin have to be so friggin’ sensitive? I mean, sure, it’s cute and all, but a tad bit trying under the circumstances. Letting his guilt get the best of him, he just pushed open the door as if it’s an everyday occurrence to have your best friend’s ex hiding in your office.
“What are you doing here, jackass?”
I shook my head. My headache was getting worse by the minute. Justin looked like he might raise his voice and I was in no mood for a screaming match.
“He wanted to drop these off for you.” I took notice of the flowers he’d placed on my desk while I was trying to ignore him. I wasn’t thinking as I nearly shoved them towards Britney. I soon realized that the card was still among the flowers.
“He didn’t know if you wanted to see him at the time, so he asked me to give them to you.”
Britney reached for the card and I cringed. It was bad enough if the card wasn’t for her, but if she found out that they were for me in the first place, she would freak.
“‘I know I’ve been a jerk lately, but with all the chaos in my life, I let it get the best of me. I want to make it up to you. See you tonight. Love Justin.’ Nice try but it’s not working. We’re over, J.”
She dropped the vase and watched the glass shatter. Stepping over the strewn flower petals, Britney turned to me and frowned.
“Thanks for trying to help, you’re a true friend. I’m sorry about the mess.”
Me too.
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